


Deal

by DWilde1891



Series: Revival [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWilde1891/pseuds/DWilde1891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time stamp.</p><p>Sam and Dean wind up in King's County, Georgia. John's absent, it's hot, and Sammy is not the little kid Dean thought he was.</p><p>Classic Wincest. </p><p>Officially part of the Revival series, but is encouraged to be read as a standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So writing this took ages? It was Christmas, then it was Spring, and now its suddenly Summer. I've been writing other fics and got distracted, and getting to grips with this took longer than I expected!
> 
> Please read and as always let me know what you think! Everything appreciated.

Sammy was late. Sammy was never late.

Trying not to gnaw on his bottom lip, Dean watched as the time on his cell phone ticked over again. Shielding his eyes from the glare of Georgia's relentless sunshine, he surveyed the stragglers hanging around outside King's County High. Sam had only been here two days. What sort of trouble could he have gotten into already?

Growling with irritation, Dean pushed off from the side of the Impala and resolved to search, trying to recall if Sam had mentioned anything. Nothing sprang to mind. He'd dumped his stuff and taken over the table in the motel, spreading out homework as usual. Gnawing on the end of his pencil and frowning at some problem, too much hair falling into his damn eyes. 

The hallways were empty. It was an old school, most of the fixtures original fifties. A highly polished stone floor lined with airy classrooms and freshly painted lockers. The tang of chemicals still in the air. Dean hit a crossroads. He called Sam's cell again and listened out for the sound of it ringing. 

The moment he heard it, he swung round to the left. Sam had put it on vibrate, but there was still no answer. Dean gripped his gun and swung it down, carefully eyeing the deserted hallways until he heard the sound of voices. 

"Who keeps calling you?"

"No one." 

Sam.

It was coming from a nearby classroom. Pressing back against the wall, Dean peered in. There was a guy sitting on a desk at the front of the room, mid twenties by the look of him, inky black hair and dark eyes. From his vantage point Sam's face was blocked, but that didn't mean he couldn't read him. He wasn't holding himself completely naturally. There was a little tension, but it seemed calculated somehow. It was in the slope of his shoulders. The slight hunching over, but with none of Sam's usual nervous tells. His restlessness and frustration. From here Dean could see he'd been sweating. The white material of his t-shirt clinging to the muscles on his back, curling the dark hair at the nape of his neck. 

"If you got somewhere to be..."

He saw Sam's head tilt to the side, as he stepped a little further into the guy’s space. Not that he had much further to go. The guy's legs were spread wide and his arms were resting on the surface of the desk. He looked far too available. 

"Yeah I do." Sam's voice lowered a notch, "Just wanted to thank you for today."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he watched a flush creep up the guy's face. His finger's twitched, clearly wanting to reach out and grasp. Dean's grip on his gun tightened as he tried to work out what was happening here. Sam leant over and whispered something in the guy's ear, long fingers following the lines of his chest and settling at his waist. The guy, teacher, snapped his head round, trying to get Sam's lips but he saw it coming. Fighter's reflexes. He was out of the way and back to the opposite desk in the blink of an eye. 

The teacher looked a little dazed, "Sam."

"I gotta go. My brother's waiting for me." he flung a satchel over his shoulder, "See you tomorrow Mr Walsh."

Hissing under his breath, Dean put his gun on safety and darted back around the corner he'd come from. When he heard Sam nearby he spun round and started walking back the way he came, "Sammy! I was just about to send out the search party!"

"Sorry Dean." he flashed a smile, all dimples and white teeth, "I got caught up."

"Coulda picked up your damn cell." he wrapped an arm around Sam's neck and tugged him in close, "That's what it's for. I thought somethin' happened."

The brightness in his expression faltered, like it always did when for a few moments he forgot that their lives carried consequences, "Sorry Dean. I'll pick up next time."

Dean smiled, squeezed Sam close before pushing him away with maybe a little more force than necessary, "No harm no foul."

Sam flicked a glance at him, his smile small, dark eyes grateful, "Thanks Dean."

Dean took a breath and looked away, "Now let's get some eats."

"Sure Dean."

\--

For the next week Dean tried to trip Sam up and get him to reveal something about school, beyond the usual drone about crappy homework and dumb noisy teenagers. Trouble was Sam didn't bite. Only peered at Dean like he'd missed something. 

"It's just school Dean. Nothing special." and he'd go back to making notes on some book. 

It was pissing Dean off. He wanted to march right up to that damn teacher and tell him to keep his filthy hands off his little brother...only trouble was all he'd seen was Sam doing the touching. It was as classic a seduction as he'd ever seen, and he knew one or two things about that. When exactly did Sam, his dorky, gangly little brother get confident enough to run his fingers down some guy's chest and get that kind of reaction? He must have practiced with someone. But how he could have found the time between study, research and helping on hunts Dean didn't know. Couldn't work it out. They hardly got any private time. Was just the way things were. 

When dad told them they'd be staying for awhile, Sam's smile had literally taken his breath away. Dreary motel room and milky dusk, with their crappy meal of store made mac and cheese cooling on the table. All of a sudden it's like the sun comes out. One sidelong glance at dad showed that he was just as stunned. Sam didn't look at them like that so much anymore-not since he'd started shooting up like a weed and arguing with dad about anything and everything. It made something in him crack.

So he did what any sane guy trained to take out monsters would do. He started to stalk Sam. 

It was pretty easy. He went to school, attended his classes. Though he looked like he'd rather be alone, Sam still managed to pick up a couple of friends. One guy, one girl. Girl was petite, a little pretty and hyperactive. She gestured a lot and blushed every time Sam smiled at her. The boy was quieter, awkward, but even Dean could see he had some kind of charm working for him. Slim, blonde and tanned. He was clean cut, a bit like the girl, but they both paled in comparison to Sam. In fact pretty much everyone he laid eyes on did. 

At some point his little brother had grown the fuck up. Logically, Dean knew that this was true. He got taller, he ate more, always needed new clothes. But all the other stuff. That had just slipped way under his radar.

Two days in a row Sam made his own way home and Dean lingered an hour or so at a diner nearby to make it seem as though he'd been busy before swinging back to the house they were renting. Sam hardly looked up from what he was reading when he returned. It was only on the third day that the routine changed. That morning Sam had mentioned something about a study group, he'd be back late, could Dean save some food. Agreeing to everything, Dean waved him off casually.

That day, rather than hang around the school for eight hours-he still had to find a job after all-he decided to just cut to the study group Sam had mentioned. The bell rang and Sammy left with the same couple of friends. They walked a couple of blocks and headed into one of the bigger town houses. Large, painted white, complete with a porch and a rocking chair. Looking for a place to conceal himself, Dean pulled out a packet of chips and waited to see what Sam was planning to do next. 

Because thinking about it, Sam regularly worked late after school. It was a pretty obvious way to win some alone time. He and dad were usually so wrapped up in a case that they didn't even question when Sammy decided he wanted to focus on school work. Dad always grumbled because he didn't really see the point in Sam maintaining grades when as soon as he finished school he'd join the hunt full time, but he stopped pursuing it. School was the only bit of normal Sam got and he turned wildcat if anyone tried to interfere. He and dad had learned to just leave the subject alone. 

An hour later the front door opened. Sam was calling back to someone, saying thank you and grinning as he slipped his bag onto his shoulder, swinging it round so it was resting on his ass. Once the door was shut and his back was turned, Sam's expression dropped. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. Dean only caught a glimpse of a small, private smile before Sam set off in another direction, away from the house they were renting. 

The streets were pretty empty so Dean had to linger far away to avoid being in Sam's line of sight. They turned a couple of corners and it was only as Sam was slinking through an alleyway that Dean realised he was doubling back. Not wanting to be seen. He was visiting that damn teacher. 

Stomach in knots, Dean shoved his hands in his jeans pocket and tried to focus on what he wanted to do. He could catch up and tell Sammy not to do it-but then he'd have to explain the stalking, and Dean was pretty sure he couldn't. They lived in a world of crazy and Dean would be first to admit that this was one of the most ridiculously stupid things he'd ever done. So rather than make a decision, he decided to just follow. Find out what was going on. For all he knew it was perfectly innocent. 

Then again, innocent people didn't go around trying not to be seen. 

Pot, kettle. 

Dean chose not to pursue that line of thought any further. 

So he stuck to the shadows and watched as Sam slipped through a back gate that had been left open for him. He heard a lock snick shut. It was good to know that Winchester paranoia hadn't deserted him after all. Listening carefully, Dean heard a door slide open, followed by a quiet greeting. Then the unmistakeable sound of kissing. Dean rested his head against the side of the fence, heart pounding. There was the low sound of laughter and the door slid shut again. 

Dean knew that now, he had to leave. He'd gotten what he wanted. Kind of. He didn't know for sure who it was. He didn't recognise the guy's voice-and it was definitely a guy. Breathing slowly, Dean eyed the fence. It wasn't very high. Before he could do anything stupid like think things through, he'd jumped it. Landing neatly into a tidy little yard. It was a one storey building. All the windows open to deal with the hot Georgia summer-though the heat was starting to wane a little now that afternoon was slipping into evening. The sky was growing pale, a breeze picking up.

Moving carefully on the outside of the house, he listened out for them. All he wanted was to know for sure who the guy was. Then he could beat the crap out of him and move on from this unfortunate episode. 

Crouching low, Dean listened carefully. They were chatting in the kitchen. Talking about some reading that Sam had done in other schools. Peering up carefully, he swept the room. Sam was sitting on the counter, sipping from a cold glass of water. Dean could see the condensation dripping down the glass. The other guy-it was definitely the teacher-was standing at the opposite counter with his arms crossed. He was smiling. Looking normal and relaxed. Not remotely like some guy that was having an affair with a student. Someone in his care.

The anger that had been simmering low for days surged up again. Dean's hands balled into fists as he thought about some guy daring to get close to Sam. Touching him in ways no one ought to. 

"So." this was Sam's voice, "You gonna keep quizzing me on my extra curricula's or you gonna get over here?"

There was something in his voice that raised the hair on the back of Dean's neck, made the skin on his body grow tight. If he was gulping on a dry throat, the other guy had to be as well. 

"S-sure." he stuttered. 

Daring another peek, Dean saw him cross the kitchen. Sam's arms resting on his shoulders, pulling the teacher in tight as they kissed. One hand was knotted up in his dark black hair, the other was moving in a firm but precise way beneath the guys t-shirt. Sam was in complete control here. Directing the teacher exactly where he wanted him. 

With a low murmur and a press of lips to the teacher's neck, Sam slid off the counter and asked to be led to the bedroom. Dean had to leave. He knew he had to go. Now. Before now. Instead his blood was rushing too quick and he followed them until he was loitering outside the bedroom. Sam had left his shirt in the hallway somewhere, pulling down his jeans, taking his boxers with them. Kicking them off to the side. The teacher was sitting on the bed with his mouth hanging open. Dean couldn't exactly blame him.

Sam was smokin' hot. Each little bit of him better than the last. Dean knew Sam's body, but it was always as an extension of his own. Something he was barely conscious of. Now he knew for a fact that the training was paying off, shaping Sam's body even as it grew. So damn lean. Long, coltish legs with thighs that women would kill for. Taut stomach, framed by the deep grooves of his hips, pink nipples and an impressive cock that was nearly as big as Dean's already. A little slimmer maybe. But he wasn't done growing yet. 

It was a little unnerving actually. As was the way he was gazing at the teacher. Thoughtfully, head titled a little to the side so long dark hair concealed his eyes. Then he moved. The teacher remained frozen.

"Sit back against the pillows." Sam suggested, though his tone was a little more commanding than that, "I want you to suck me off."

The teacher nodded and did as he was told. He'd stripped down to his boxers and his arousal was obvious. There was a damp patch gathering already. Sam ignored him. Went up on his knees, back to Dean, and took control of the guy's head. Dean eyed Sam's strong muscles and broad shoulders, watching, attentive, to the flex and curve of his ass as he fucked into the teacher's mouth. Dean was frozen to the spot. He attempted to leave, took a step away, then stopped when he saw Sam's hand creep round to the back. One finger sliding into the crack of his ass. 

Dean felt his cock throb, precome spurting from the tip as his knees suddenly went weak. At some point Sam had lubed up his fingers and he was working them in and out of himself as he carried on pumping down the teacher's throat. His muscles were glistening with sweat. There wasn't a breeze anymore. The entire world seemed to be closing in and still Dean couldn't move.

Instead he watched as Sam found that spot deep inside that made him cry out hoarsely in pleasure. All at once he pulled his cock out the teacher's mouth, tore down his boxers, and sank down on his dick. Dean gulped. Trying to remember any other part of his body that wasn't his cock, because at the moment all he could feel was it throbbing hard and wet between his legs. So slick with precome he wouldn't have needed lube. 

Grasping the window ledge for support, Dean watched in amazement as his little brother held down his teacher and took what he wanted. Long finger's were gripping the guy's thighs as he moved up and down, grinding backwards and forwards, that cock appearing and reappearing in his little brother's tight hole. Sam's head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open as he tried to breath. Moaning like a bitch in heat. The teacher's hands were gripping Sam's hips but he wasn't in control of this, wasn't even trying, too busy being wrung dry by Sam who suddenly reared up as orgasm hit him. 

The sound of it, the deep, raw tone of his voice shocked Dean down to his bones. It triggered the orgasm he'd been on the verge of since witnessing that kiss in the kitchen. Gasping and sweating as pleasure shot through his body. Pulling loose all the muscles he'd locked up in fear and arousal. On the bed Sam slumped down, pulled off, come dripping down his thighs. 

"Forgot the damn condom." he heard Sam mutter in disgust, "If you've lied about being clean I'll cut your balls off."

The teacher chuckled, assuming Sam was joking. He fell silent when he realised that it was less a threat than a statement of fact. When they started making out Dean made his move and had to escape. Not trusting his legs, Dean opened the back gate and slipped through. He couldn't lock it, Sam would probably notice, but he was too much in shock to care. All he wanted was a shower, then to get drunk. Very drunk. And act like none of this had ever happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean pretended that everything was alright. Perfectly normal. That he hadn't come untouched watching his sixteen year old brother ride his teacher into the mattress.

_Damn it._

He hadn't figured out a strategy yet. Not thinking about it only increased the likelihood that he would. So he tried embracing the image of Sammy's straining muscles and heady moans. Problem was he got rock hard every single time and had to dash to the nearest bathroom to jerk off.

He swung between allowing himself one indulgence each morning in the shower and throwing himself into work during the day, then getting drunk at night. It was a nice balance and seemed to be working. Kind of.

Until King's County High shut up for summer and dad still hadn't made any noise about moving on somewhere else. Ordinarily Dean would have found that suspicious. These days he was too busy obsessing about the fact that without a hunt on Sam, like any normal teenager, had long, unoccupied hours free from supervision to look forward to. Not to mention the teacher he'd been fucking would be just as free.

While Dean was sweating his ass off an inch from the red hot concrete, covered in oil and grease, his little brother was having indescribably hot sex with a guy only a little older than Dean. Mike Walsh. Twenty four years old. Freshly graduated from Atlanta University, this was his first year teaching. Had a brother at the Sheriff's Office. Shane Walsh.

Dean figured checking up on him after what he'd witnessed just seemed like the brotherly thing to do.

When a wrench slipped and he cut his hand, Dean cursed and rolled out. Enough was enough. Cleaning up, he washed the cut and told his boss that he was going to eat lunch back at the house. When he pulled up in the Impala he noticed an unfamiliar car parked out front. Eyes narrowing, Dean strode through the front door, slamming it shut hard behind him.

There was a muffled squeak from the sitting room. The door bounced off the wall Dean pushed it open that quickly. Eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. A girl. Blonde hair. Her clothes pulled off while Sam was busy between her legs, his lips damp with spit and come as he glared at the interruption.

"What are you doing here?" his voice sounded rough, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with lust and anger.

It was one of the hottest things Dean had ever seen.

"Lunch." Dean growled.

"It's not even one." Sam snapped, "You never eat lunch this early."

"Well I decided to change up my routine!" Dean didn't know why he was so angry. For years he'd been nurturing Sam's sexuality. Sharing his exploits. Telling him what to do, how to get a girl all worked up and pleading. It was just part of his duties as an older brother. Another way of preparing Sam for what it was like out there.

Now he was witnessing it all he felt was a deep twist of betrayal.

"Fine!" Sam sat up, "Come on Tam. Let's go upstairs."

Blushing from head to toe, the girl took Sam's outstretched hand and followed him obediently upstairs. The bedroom door slammed. Dean slumped in the doorway. Took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. Seconds later there was the sound of gasping, followed by the rhythmic sound of a bed creaking, headboard knocking against the wall. Dean's cock hardening, jumping from the semi he'd been enduring since this morning.

Dean came home for a sandwich and a shower. Instead he toed off his boots and crept up the stairs, leaning on the closed door, listening as his brother grunted, kissing that girl as his hips worked. Her gasps were high and keening. She was begging him.

"Oh Sam-baby-please!"

"You gotta tell me what you want." he said gruffly, the bed stopped moving and she cried out.

"I need to come." she was gasping, "Please Sam-make me come." she cried out, but the bed wasn't moving anymore, "No!" she cried, "Not like that. In me. P-please-"

Christ. Dean slipped his hand down, grasping the base of cock so he wouldn't come. Gulping as lust crawled through his blood. Thick, heavy and wrong. Sam had this girl desperate. God knows how long he'd kept her on the verge of orgasm before Dean arrived. Dark pink tongue working her clit, one long finger deep inside, coaxing that gentle heat until it was all consuming. It got Dean's heart pounding. Being at Sam's mercy like that.

"In you?" there was the sound of the bed slamming suddenly, "Just like this?"

"Y-yeah." she barely had a voice now, "D-don't stop. Just keep doin' that."

"You sure?" he stopped again, there was the sound of sheets shuffling, her whimpering, "What about this?"

She cried out even more, "Y-yeah. That! Do that!"

Then they were off again. Sam must be riding her hard if the sound of the bed thumping was anything to go by. Not to mention her moaning. Dean knew he was great in bed. Skilled enough to bring anyone to the best orgasm of their life to date. It helped that he didn't have any kinks of his own but would indulge anyone else in theirs.

Only thing he drew the line on was scat. That shit was nasty.

Seems Sam did things the other way round. Got the people he was fucking to do what he wanted and make them beg for it. As his eyes slid closed Dean shut her out, stripping his cock in time to Sam's thrusts, imagining what it would be like to have Sam bearing down over him. That long body draped over his. Sam pouring filth into his ear, making him weak, desperate, before just taking the pleasure how he wanted. Dean begging him to do it, to get it over with because he couldn't stand it anymore.

When he came it was in time with the girl. She cried out in one long shuddering groan and Dean had to bite the back of his hand as come splattered over his fist. Then Sam shot his load. It was a bitten off gasp. His voice gruff and low. Nothing like how he'd sounded before when he was fucking the teacher. Yet this was hotter somehow, because Sam knew that he'd be listening.

Dean didn't really know what that meant.

So he crossed directly to the bathroom and had a shower. Was just leaving when he encountered Sam on the landing in a pair of jeans while he texted someone else on his cell phone. There were a couple of scratches on his sides from her nails. A hickey on his neck. Marks showing someone else's claim.

Sam's attention flicked up from the screen, looking up at Dean through long dark lashes. Eyes a complex mix of green, brown and gold. He quirked a smile, "Sorry."

"No-I shouldn't have shouted." his voice sounds rough, he wondered if he looked as fucked out as he felt, "I was just shocked." he forced a leer, "Thought you'd stay a puny ass little virgin forever. She's hot. How much you pay for her?"

Sam's eyes widen in shock and he laughed, shoving Dean with his right hand, the hand that had probably been up inside that girl not long ago, "You're so gross!"

Dean grinned and shoved back, this felt familiar, normal, "Says the guy going down on a girl on our mangy couch."

He blushed, a delicate colouring of cheeks that made him seem so young all of a sudden, nothing like the guy that had made a girl beg for her orgasm loud enough for Dean to hear every single word, "Yeah. That wasn't supposed to happen."

"She's cute."

Sam shrugged, "Sure." he glanced down at his cell, then back up at Dean, "You going out tonight?"

"Maybe. Guys usually go for a beer on Friday."

"Cool 'cos Danny wants to go see a movie and I said I would join-if that's okay?"

Dean had actually got to meet the blonde kid Sam had become friends with not long after stalking him to the teacher's house. He was a little sharper than he'd expected from all the apple pie trappings but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he had a thing for Sam.

Seriously, who didn't have a thing for Sam these days? Man had he flowered.

"Sure, go for it." he smiled, though it strained, his head was a mess, "You seen dad today?"

"He dropped in this morning and headed back out to the shop." Sam looked thoughtful, "He's got to be seeing someone."

"You think?"

Sam shrugged, "Sure-why not? He's usually more restless than this."

Truth was Dean had barely noticed dad. All his focus was directed at Sam, then even more pretending that it wasn't "You ask him about it?"

Sam pulled a face, "I don't want to know."

Dean grinned, then laughed, unable to stop his arm reaching out and dragging his little brother in by a hand round the nape of his neck. Sam went with him for once, flowing into his arms, head pressing against his shoulder, large hands resting against his waist. Last time they'd held each other like this Dad had been taken down by a nasty poltergeist, bleeding out so hard and so fast they'd dragged him to a hospital. They pulled each other in when they left him to the surgeons, not knowing if they'd start a new day as orphans. Stayed close in the waiting room. Clung tight when they were told that dad had made it. That they got lucky. Just a little while longer there would have been no going back.

Except Sammy was smaller then. Skinny and gangly-not quite fitting his frame. Edgy and angular, snapping in frustration when anyone tried to get close. The kid in his arms now was broader, skin still soft, so warm Dean couldn't help brushing his fingertips along the strong sweep of muscle, one flowing gently into the other. Sam shivered a little as his fingers drifted down, until they were resting on the denim on his hips, hanging so loose it would take hardly anything, a whisper, a suggestion and they would pool on the floor.

"Sam?"

There was a low, irritated huff of air and Dean only caught a glimpse of something dark before Sam's face transformed into a bright smile, "Hey." he put his phone into his back pocket and swept the girl back into their room, kissing her lips and walking her backwards, door snicking shut behind them.

Closing his eyes and taking one long, deep breath, Dean took one step on the landing, then another, and before he'd had time to work through anything he'd grabbed some fresh clothes off the line outside, changed, and had enough time to swing through a drive through and devour a taco before he had to get back to work. Then he lost himself in metal and oil, anything cold, harsh or dirty. Just something to wash away the feel of his brother's skin beneath his fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was drunk. So drunk he was having trouble seeing one of everything. There was a neat little brunette under his arm with a mole near her nose he couldn't keep his lips off and the hill billy music was actually starting to work for him.

Just as he was about ready to go back to hers, he caught sight of the teacher. Leaning against the bar, sipping from a whiskey, scanning the room. Pausing on Dean, before moving on. That was enough for him.

"Sorry honey, I gotta-" he couldn't think how to end that sentence, so he didn't. Instead he just wandered away. First to the bathroom. Then back to the bar. Brushing up against Mike Walsh as he summoned the bar tender for another beer. Taking a long, slow gulp with his lips wrapped suggestively around the neck of the bottle. When he looked sidelong he was being watched. Carefully.

"You alright?" Dean asked, wiping away traces of beer on his lips with his tongue, aware of it being followed.

"You ain't from around here." he said softly.

"Passing through." he smiled, holding out his hand, "Dean."

He grasped it, "Mike."

"Pleasure to meet you Mike." Dean let his hand go and settled on the bar, resting against it side on as he sipped from his drink, "So, what does a guy do for fun around here?"

Sammy had good taste. Mike was tall, limber looking with a narrow waist and dark, tanned skin. Wide apart dark eyes and wavy black hair. Unlike the rest of the guys here he was clean, smelled of nice cologne, in a black shirt that was just this side of too tight, jeans held up with a dark brown leather belt and a heavy buckle. That thing could cause some serious damage.

"Apart from drink? Not much." Mike's lips were curled a little in the corner, "There's always huntin'."

"You hunt?" Dean smirked, "You don't look the type."

"It's Georgia." he drawled, "Kids are taught how to shoot before they learn to talk."

Dean grinned, letting some heat gather in his expression as he moved a little into Mike's space, "So, Mike, you huntin' for anythin' tonight?"

Mike eyed him warily, "That depends."

"On what?"

"What happened to your girl?"

Dean scanned over his shoulder. 'His girl' was already onto someone else, "Oh she's good." Dean grinned, "I'm all yours."

Mike sipped slowly from his drink, considering and appraising. Hooking up with guys in a small, Bible bashing, gun toting town like this was probably risky business. Dean just finished his drink and waited. In the end Mike made the right decision, "Lead the way."

They went back to the house. The lights were off, which didn't mean much. Sammy said he'd be out, after all. So he shut the door and pushed Mike back up against it first chance he got. It was a little sloppy. Dean was seriously drunk, but Mike was enthusiastic and they clumsily headed upstairs. The last time Dean had been with a guy it had been in the back room of some roadside bar. A blowjob each with a little ass play. It'd taken the edge off some serious frustration until the hunt was over, which he celebrated with a couple of filthy blondes back at the motel. That had been an awesome night.

Collapsing on the bed, Dean made short work of Mike's shirt and followed the planes of his chest with teeth and tongue. Mike was breathing unevenly, cock pressing up against the tight material of his jeans.

"Dean." his voice was tight, "Come on."

Smirking, Dean crawled up Mike's chest and licked against his lips, before taking his mouth, fingers slipping through his soft dark hair. The windows were open but there was no wind, and two bodies this close, worked up and sweating was intoxicating. Mike's hands were big and quick, removing Dean's clothes, tugging off his jeans until they were both naked and stretched out above the sheets. Rutting against one another, Mike's dick hard against his hip as his lips worked at Dean's throat.

"You have a preference?" Mike questioned, one hand clutching Dean's ass cheek.

"No." he admitted easily, pressing his cock further down against Mike's, considering what he wanted, how needy he'd felt since he overheard Sam fuck that girl, "Alright." he pressed his lips against Mike's pulse, "You can fuck me."

Mike pulled back, eyebrows raised, "Seriously?"

Dean frowned, "Yeah."

"Oh." he smiled wide, "Awesome."

"Yeah it's awesome." Dean agreed, reaching over to the lube they kept under the pillow. Being shy about their masturbation habits seemed redundant when they were forced to share the same bed. Well, forced might not be the right word. Not anymore at least.

Grasping Mike's biceps, he spun them round and shoved the lube in his face, instructing, "Be good at this."

"I can be whatever the hell you want me to be." Mike said breathlessly, before coating his fingers in lube and reaching down. Dean let his legs fall open, head pressed back against the pillows as he relaxed through the intrusion. Been a long time since anyone had fucked him. It wasn't really how he rolled, but with everything spinning round inside his head at the moment this was what he needed. To let someone else do all the work for once.

"Fuck." he breathed as Mike's fingers brushed against him, sending a flurry of pleasure unfurling through his entire body, "Do that again."

Mike's tongue was lathering his hip bone, teeth pressing down as he added another finger, rubbing down. Dean groaned, low and deep, toes curling as colour rushed behind his eyes. Dean's cock was hard, and throbbing, as his body grew tense and pliant, eager for more, just about to demand it when the bedroom door was flung open.

Sam was pressing some boy against the wall, legs around his waist as his hands tore at the wifebeater he was wearing.

"Sam." he whined.

"Fine." with a roughness he rarely displayed in everyday life Sam threw him in the direction of the bed.

"Hey hey hey!" Dean cried, pushing Mike away with his foot, "Sammy! What the hell do you think you're doin'!"

Sam seemed surprised to see them there, he was hard, flushed, his t-shirt tight and heavy with sweat, "Dean." hazel eyes ran the length of his body, lingering on his cock, before snapping his attention on the other guy in the bed with an intense, predatory expression, "Mr Walsh."

"Sam." his voice was dry, he looked at Dean, "You know each other?"

"Dean's my big brother." Sam pulled off his t-shirt and climbed on the bed, pressing his lips against the other boy with force, long fingers tangled in his blonde hair.

"Hey!" Dean threw the nearest thing he could find at Sam, which happened to be the lube. It bumped against his shoulder and landed on the floor, "Sam you slut! The bed is occupied!"

Sam's looked up at him, eyes blown with lust as he made one long, measured thrust against the kid who whined against his shoulder. It was Danny. The new friend. What the fuck was going on with Sam lately? This was the third person in as many weeks.

"I'm not using dad's room." his voice was stubborn.

"I was here first!" he shouted, "I don't care where you fuck-just get out of here!"

Sam's eyes narrowed and he sat up abruptly, "Fine." searching the floor, eyes lighting on Dean's jeans as he got off Danny in one long, graceful move, "We'll go somewhere else." he searched his pocket, before grabbing the keys to the Impala.

Dean glared. Danny was on his back, flushed and breathless with desire. There was no way they would make it out of the drive, which Sam damn well knew.

"No sex in the Impala!" he pointed at him, "There's a couch downstairs. You can use that, or the floor, or the shower. If you gotta do it, you do it anywhere else but Baby. Leave her out of this."

Sam looked at Mike, who was tense and a little bewildered. Dean shifted a little, his ass was twitching and pulsing. He couldn't sit this out much longer. Sam's eyes trailed down, to where Mike was still sitting with one hand resting on the bed between Dean's thighs.

It seemed to settle something for him, "Danny take the rest of your clothes off."

As the kid eagerly complied, Sam grasped Mike by the hair and dragged him back into a kiss, a snarling show of teeth and domination that made Dean's heart pound. Mike looked dumb with lust by the time he pulled back. Sam caught his eye and smiled. The worst smile. The one he got when he cracked a case.

"No! Whatever is going through that huge horny teenage brain of yours no!"

Sam tugged off his jeans instead, hard cock bobbing as he clambered back onto the bed and devoured Danny with a kiss, one hand rubbing against his leaking dick. Danny made a high, keening sound of pleasure that sent Dean spiralling with hunger and jealousy. Unable to help it he rubbed up against Mike who was still staring at Sam, his cock visibly hardening again as he watched his hips undulate against Danny's, showing power and promise.

"You're a dick Sam." Dean breathed, dragging Mike back into the moment with a long, slow kiss.

"Don't care." he was reaching over the side of the bed, for the lube Dean had thrown as Danny gulped in air, hot skin radiating against Dean's, arching suddenly when Sam slipped one finger straight up his ass.

"Some warning." he panted, hips jerking as he struggled to contain whatever the hell it was Sam was doing to him.

"Little surprise never hurt anyone." Sam breathed, licking one slow stripe beneath Danny's cock before swallowing him whole. Moving up and down a little ruthlessly, fingers manipulating with skilful deliberation. Danny shouted out, so overwhelmed it was a wonder he lasted as long as he did. It was a wonder Dean did.

Danny came apart, writhing and moaning and Dean urged Mike to put the condom on and get inside him. Watching Sammy's throat work as he swallowed every drop was doing things to him he needed to get out of his system quickly, so he could go back to ignoring it. Well, that was the plan. If any of this could be called planned. Sam, on the other hand, had other ideas.

Mike pushed in and Dean was so ready, so desperate for it there was hardly any resistance. They hadn't even settled into a rhythm before Mike suddenly shouted, "Sam!"

Dean peeled his eyes back, to find Sam staring down at him.

"Be quiet Mike." Sam commanded, kissing the side of his neck delicately as one arm wrapped around his chest, the other hidden, though it was obvious what he was doing, "Just fuck my big brother."

"Easier said than-ah!" he jerked forward, then back, "Sam-please-what are you doin'?"

"Making you my bitch." he growled, dragging his teeth down to the meat of Mike's shoulder, biting down as his fingers clearly found what they were looking for. Mike seized up on a silent moan, his fingers digging into Dean's thighs, "Now carry on or I'll stop."

Taking the instruction to heart, Mike started pulsing his hips backwards and forwards, hands tucked up beneath Dean's thighs so he was raised a little, pushing down, chasing sensation as he was split open on Mike's dick. Holding onto the headboard for leverage. Moaning as heady, bewildering lust distracted him from Sammy for just a moment.

Sam tugged Danny towards him so they could kiss, slow, and long, before Sam urged him towards Dean. The kid looked a little nervous, understandably, but he was cute, lips still glistening from the trace of Sam's tongue and he pulled him down by the neck to get a taste. Soft, not quite coordinated, but he didn't care. Couldn't.

A smaller hand than he expected wrapped round his cock and started to tug. Mike shouted out again as he dropped down. Dean knotted his heels behind his ass and looked up at Sammy who had gripped Mike's hips and was fucking him with quick, brutal thrusts, changing the pace, making everything dizzier and more immediate. Mike was caught between them both, powerless against Sam who was looking down at them all, a little curl on the corner of his lips, eyes on Dean.

Dean stared back over Mike's shoulder. It was almost possible to imagine he wasn't there. Sam was the one in charge, after all, flicking a glance at Danny and ordering him on his knees. To kiss him, then to start opening himself up. Dean wasn't sure who for-he wasn't sure he'd be able to move after this.

"Fuck!" he grabbed hold of Mike's hips, pushing up against his dick, chasing an orgasm he could feel building. Sam leant over, pressed his lips against the back of Mike's neck before licking a hot trail round to his ear.

"You're forgetting my brother." he breathed.

Then Mike was pumping his dick and Dean flung his head back. Grabbing hold of Mike's waist. A surge of electricity snapping through his spine when his fingers knotted with Sam's. They held onto one another as Mike hips pumped, hand tugging and when he imagined the lips at his throat belonging to Sammy it pushed him over the edge. A long, rough orgasm that turned him inside out.

"Fuuuuck." he groaned low and long, as Mike suddenly seized mid thrust, coming deep and sudden. Dean was over sensitive, eager for him to pull out but Sam was still working. Still fucking. Finally stopping when Mike collapsed over Dean, unable to take anymore.

Without pausing he dragged Danny down underneath him, hoisting up his hips and moving in long, slow thrusts. Accommodating for lack experience, Dean guessed. Danny was breathless, fingers knotted in the sheets as Sam coaxed him through to orgasm, licking at his nipples and pulling Danny's cock with an unexpected level of tenderness. When Danny came again Sam pulled out, tugged the condom off onto the floor, and rose up onto his knees. Jacking his dick until he finally came, rearing up, muscles twitching and glistening as long strings of come landed on Danny's chest.

"Fuck." Mike was on his back, head resting in the crook of Dean's arm, "Sam this was so many kinds of wrong."

Sam only hummed and got up from the bed, heading to the bathroom for a cool towel that he used to wipe Danny down with, before leaning over to do the same to Dean, grinning wickedly, "Gross dude."

Dean shoved him, but he was still a little weak from being so well fucked, even if it was only by proxy, "You're a little shit."

"I thought it was hot." Danny yawned, stretching and rolling over before falling asleep. Just like that.

"That looks like a great idea." Mike drawled, draping an arm across Dean's chest and doing the same. Sam and Dean shared a look. One they'd shared since Sam was old enough to hold a gun.

_Civilians._

"Sammy..." Dean said softly.

"Save the freak out for later Dean." Sam said quietly, slotting his back in against Dean as he drew this evening's fuck closer.

"There's a lot to freak out about." he muttered, tugging a little at Mike's sweaty hair, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to get off."

"Bullshit." he prodded him in the back and Sam jerked, snapping his head round to glare at him in the semi darkness, "Don't do it again."

"Sure." and he pressed his ass back briefly against Dean's side before settling into sleep. Not real sleep, Dean knew by now what that sounded like, but they weren't talking about this. Fine. Dean could do that. Not talk, about what was easily the hottest sexual experience of his life to date.

Not talking about it was what Winchester's did best.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy chapter...

"Boys!"

Sam snapped his eyes open. First thing he registered was an expanse of pale golden skin and messy black hair. The room was stifling. Sweat dripping down his back, trailing down crack of his ass, and as he moved his skin stuck to someone else. Two someone else's. Danny at his back. Mike at the end. He and Dean in the middle. The four of them knotted together after last night.

Last night.

"I got coffee!" dad called again, front door slamming closed.

"Fuck!" they hissed in unison. Dean shoved Mike and Sam shook Danny. They both groaned in protest.

"Boys?" there was the sound of a foot on the stairs and Dean shoved him towards the door. Hissing in irritation, Sam stepped into a pair of jeans and started throwing clothes at the people they belonged to.

"Dad!" he called back.

"Sammy!" he stopped on the stairs, "I got pancakes. Come get 'em before they get cold."

Dean peered at Sam, repeating in disbelief, "Pancakes? Since when does dad buy us pancakes?"

"Seriously Dean?" he shoved on a black wife beater, "I'll go first. If we make enough noise running down the stairs maybe he won't notice."

"That's a terrible idea." Dean pointed to the window, "They should just climb out there."

Danny and Mike shared an alarmed look and Sam stared at Dean like he was an idiot. They could climb down the front of the house, because they did stupid bullshit like that all the time. They'd been trained to. The civilians they'd bought home would probably break something.

"That's a stupid plan." he ran his hands through his hair, "I'm going to take a piss, because I always do, and then we're going to move. Fast." he searched Danny and Mike, "You understand?"

"Sure..." Danny looked sleepy, confused and well fucked. It was a good look on him, and Sam hadn't gotten round to trying out half the stuff he wanted. Stumbling across his teacher fucking Dean had derailed his plans a little.

"How scary is your pa?" Mike asked tentatively, pulling his belt tight.

"You read Silence of the Lambs?" Dean shot out.

"Yeah?"

"Like that, without the eating people."

"Riiight." Mike drew out and he looked at Danny again, as though searching for moral support before it seemed to hit him that a month ago he'd been instructing him in how to pass an exam on _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and this entire situation was held together by the insanity of two fucked up Winchester's.

"Dean."

"Yes Sam."

Taking the agreement, Sam left the room, had a piss, flushed the toilet and together the four of them ran down the stairs. Dean headed to the kitchen, because he went everywhere first, and Sam ushered Mike and Danny out the house, snicking the door quietly shut before picking up the forgotten post and carrying it through as though everything was okay.

There were pancakes, as promised, and some coffee that was a step above what they were used to. Dad was sitting at the formica table reading a paper, humming a little under his breath. Humming. It was weird. He looked as Dean as though to share the joke, but Dean was gazing into his coffee as though it held all the secrets to the universe.

Of course. Freaking out. Right on schedule.

"Gonna tell us where you were last night dad?" Sam asked, pulling over a blueberry pancake and taking a big bite.

John glanced up, turned a page, "I was out."

"Two nights in a row?" Sam smirked, there was a bite on the juncture between John's shoulder and neck. Not a love bite, an actual bite. He could see the indents.

"Yes." he glanced up, but the usual glare wasn't as murderous as it used to be, "Out."

Sam nodded his head a little in agreement and worked his way through his portion of the pancakes, knocking back the nicer than usual coffee before heading upstairs to take a shower, for all the good it would do. Summer in Georgia was the worst.

He thought about what he could do today, now he had yet another weekend without responsibility to enjoy. Dad was busy being distracted, and happy. Dean was in the middle of a breakdown. Training was definitely off. Looked like it would be a good day for practicing his Latin before catching up with Carolyn and Danny. They mentioned a party at a farm nearby that could be fun. Maybe. Like Sam knew what that meant.

Dad stopped having fun years ago. The closest he got to joy was killing something he'd been chasing for weeks. Following it up with some hot young waitress after too much whiskey. Dean was different. After the fucked up life they'd lived, he could find a little bit of joy in anything. A decent burger. Good music...or what he considered to be good music. Baby. Killing something.

Killing was a theme.

Fuck. Sam wanted to be normal, or to understand it at least. When they were on the move all the time he craved it. Standing still, making roots, getting to know the friends he'd made beyond the school projects they were working on. He couldn't formulate a language with kids of the same age beyond that. Trends differed depending on what state you were in. Fashion, bands, even fucking words. The word cool just didn't cover it anymore. If it ever did.

Truth was it got boring, always being the freak. Dean was happy with the mission. So busy taking care of he and dad there wasn't room for giving a fuck about what other people thought, which Sam kind of envied. What Dean didn't care about didn't exist. Sam had never mastered that level of ignorance. Didn't matter that when it came down to it he was happy. Mostly.

Problem was all it took was one person to notice that his shirt was frayed, didn’t fit right and that was it. Poor. Drifter. Orphan. Freak. Pick a word, it all amounted to the same thing. The attitude of the kids he expected and understood. They were mean, and morons and the teachers weren’t much better.

Families like theirs didn’t fit into a neat little box and it made people panic. It was like they were judged for dad not having a minivan, Dean not being part of a goddamn team, or Sam not having some lame ass puppy dog romance with a dewy eyed blonde.

Dean actually felt sorry for them. The people they saved. At the same time it also made him feel entitled, like the many times he’d deliberately fucked the pastors daughter in whatever bible town they were passing through. It wasn't their fault they didn't know what evil really looked like, but Dean would sure as hell take his due when it was offered.

Sam was just trying his hardest to care. School helped. The reliability of having one thing in his life besides Dean that stayed the same gave their formless existence some structure. And unlike hunting he was naturally good at that stuff. Everything from science to history just came easy, especially compared to shooting, sparring and translating ancient texts. Studying was something he got to keep and nurture on his own. He was just fortunate that some of the other outsiders he’d encountered over the last couple of years were fun and freaky enough to let him test out some of the things Dean had been taunting him about since he was a kid.

Getting out of the shower, Sam rubbed his hair with a towel and trailed back through to the bedroom to change. First thing that hit him was the smell. Sweat and semen, and some seriously twisted up sheets. Flushing a little at how stupid he’d been last night, he grabbed _Brave New World_ from the nightstand and got settled in the sitting room. Dean was watching the TV and they were ignoring each other.

That’s what they were pretending anyway.

Dean hadn’t showered yet. His spiky hair was thick with sweat and mussed up from Mike’s fingers. Freckles had broken out across his cheeks and shoulders, skin flushed and glowing gold in the heat. Sam felt the muscles on his stomach tightening, trying to haul everything he was thinking and feeling back inside.

Last night it had gone too far, but Sam knew without hesitation he’d do it all over again. If it was the only time he’d get to see Dean naked and begging to be fucked, damn right he was going to make it worth it.

“You doin’ anythin’ today?” Dean shot out suddenly.

Sam looked up from the book he wasn’t reading and tried not to shift unnecessarily in case it drew attention to his hard cock, “Dunno. There’s talk of a party later-Danny reckons there might be some college kids there now that’s school’s closed for summer.”

“Danny?” Dean repeated, “That kid from last night.”

“Yeah. That’s him.” Sam looked back down at his book, chewed the corner of his lip and suggested quietly, “You could come.”

Dean didn’t say anything straight away. When Sam looked up again he seemed troubled, before that mask slipped back on and he grinned, “Sure why not. Gotta love those college girls Sammy. The sweeter they are on the outside, the wilder they are on the inside.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and it seemed to occur to Dean what he’d just said. Who else it described. He flushed again, coughed, and left to take a shower. Sam rubbed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand against his dick. Tonight was going to be a long night.

\--

Dean lost sight of Sam almost as soon as they arrived. They were at a farm just outside of town and it was heaving with kids of all ages. First thing he did was panic, shoving people out the way to get a line of sight. He was on the verge of shouting at the top of his voice when he spotted Sam in the kitchen with Danny and the girl, Carolyn.

The second thing that prickled on his radar were the many unsubtle glances in Sam’s direction. Whoever that other girl he’d fucked was, word had clearly gotten round.

You want an orgasm to good enough to turn your brain to liquid, hit up Sam Winchester.

Forcing down the bitter sting of jealousy, he plastered on a grin and went to grab a beer from the keg. Clapping Sam hard on the shoulder and tugging him in close so he could murmur in his ear, “Word’s gotten round Sammy. You can take your pick tonight.”

Sam blushed beautifully and he elbowed Dean in the ribs, “Shut up Dean!”

Laughing Dean let him go and decided to roam the party for awhile. They’d arrived later than everyone else. Dad had insisted on a family meal before disappearing to be with his mystery woman, so after a full bitching session about a lack of clean clothes they’d wound up here. Way less drunk than anyone else and pretending as though the threat of more casual sex wouldn't be the spark that lit the fire on all the stuff they were ignoring.

All the rooms had already been claimed upstairs, and there was a considerable cue to the bathroom. No one of interest. Just high school kids older than Sam, giggling and gossiping together.

A lot of them stank, and their skin was gross. Acne as far as the eye could see-as much on the girls as it was the guys, except plenty of them had covered it with makeup. S'far as he could tell the kids Sam chose to hang out with were a lot more mature and comfortable in their own skin than these neurotic small town bible bashers.

Grabbing another beer he headed downstairs to the basement. That's usually where the real action was during the things. There was a little bit of music, dark lights, and hot bodies. An older crowd. Deciding this was for him Dean slunk into the mass, picking out a blonde with long hair and a ripe ass to grind up against.

She reacted at once, pushing back before turning. Thankfully the front was as good as the back. Full lips, blue eyes, classic full bodied American country girl. Deciding this was a definite score Dean delivered his most charming smile and pulled her closer.

As a general rule, Dean didn't dance. All that self expression shit was for girls. Bump'n'grind on the other hand. He was all over that shit.

One song in they were eating each other's faces. Third song she actually asked his name.

"Winchester?" she repeated, hot body held close so she could shout over the music, "Are you Sam's brother?"

Weirded out that for once Sam's reputation had preceded his, Dean played it the same way he always had, "Yeah. Nerd's my little brother."

Her grin was wicked, "Wow. So-I'm Tam's sister." Dean just looked at her and she leant in closer, "You found them on the couch."

Fuck. He panicked for a moment, remembering what he’d done listening to them fuck, but his bullshitting instincts kicked in quick fast and he leered, intimating in a low tone as he pushed a thigh between her legs, “Well everything little Sammy knows he learned from me.”

She laughed, “Yeah, well, from what I heard-he ain’t that little.”

Dean grinned against her lips, “You and your sister share everything?”

“Sometimes.” she slipped one hand beneath his shirt, the sway of her hips guiding his as her arms crept around his shoulders, “We like to compete. I figure if I score the older Winchester I’m winning.”

“That’s what I always say.” he agreed.

Relaxing into the familiar rhythm of a hook up felt good. They made out for awhile, just murmuring bullshit to one another before he decided that yeah. Fuck it. Things with Sam could be fine if they stuck to what they were doing, or not doing, and he was in the mood for something more normal than the unscheduled foursome that had exploded last night.

They’d gotten as far as the hallway when shouting kicked off outside, with Sam’s voice ringing out above them all, “You want him-you go through me!”

Shit. Throwing an apologetic look at Tam’s sister-he never caught her name-he threw people out the way to get outside. A crowd had gathered outside the barn, with a ring of what had to be football players surrounding Sam as he defended Danny. Kid was bleeding from the lip and looking mutinous.

“He’s a fucking fag!”

“You came onto me!” Danny shouted at the top of his voice, “I told you to fuck off and you attacked me!”

“Stupid fag liar!” he surged forward and Sam pushed him off effortlessly, “You're a liar! Everyone knows you’re Winchester’s whore!”

“Hey!” a blonde girl, Tam, pushed forward, “That is not true!”

Bickering broke out. Dean slunk forward slowly and Sam clocked him, but didn’t move, didn’t relax. His hands were balled into fists and he was as angry as Dean had ever seen. It was worrying. Out of all of them, Sam was the one that got least emotionally involved in a case. Part of it was his age, and the amount of time he spent away from the front line. Another was that unlike he and dad, Sam literally had no memory of another life. From the beginning he’d been dealing with traumatised victims and an array of monsters worse than nightmares. Though he was damn good at caring and he always knew the decent thing to do, Sam’s heart didn’t bleed for them. Not the way it did for Dean, or dad.

So this. This was new.

Sure, Sam stood up for the little guy. Always had when he was pushed, but he’d never looked like he did now. Stance wide, and ready. Breathing coming deep and heavy, cold hard fury making him sharp and clear. If Sam had a weapon right now Dean would be afraid, because that, that was a Winchester killing face. And these assholes had walked right into it.

“Get him!”

Ten guys on one and Dean held back because fuck, Sammy riled up like this was a thing of beauty. Graceful as he was violent, taking the easy blows and dealing double back. The best the football players could think to do was tackle him and Sam didn’t stay still long enough for that to happen. Even by Dean’s standards he was making this look easy. By the time he’d broken the last guy’s nose with one well placed punch he was sweating, eyes glassy, and that rage nowhere near satiated.

Dean was half hard by the time Sam glanced up at him again. Gave a sarcastic little bow in his direction before half the school swamped him. The football team stepped over and ignored while Sam was given the full hero treatment, but it was obviously too much. Sam grabbed Danny by the shoulder and used his bleeding lip as an excuse to escape. They’d gotten as far as the steps to the house, Danny gazing at Sam with a charming kind of awe when the asshole that started it got his bearings. Found a bottle that had gotten smashed on the floor and ran.

Dean strode forward and caught him by the arm, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Sam looked round at the sound of his voice, gaze darkening when he saw what was happening. One hand remained on Danny’s shoulder but the look in his eye was enough to send shivers down Dean’s spine. The order was pretty simple. Cause him pain. Maybe ruin a life. Break a wrist, and Dean was tempted. Snivelling cowardly fuck had tried to hurt Sammy when his back was turned. It was unlikely he’d stand a chance, but it was the attempt that counted.

“He’s a liar and a fag.” football player repeated, like a mantra, dopey with lust as he gazed at Danny and his admittedly appealing dreaminess.

“Kid is out of your league.” Dean murmured, not taking his eyes off Sam, “Hit on someone else-or man up.” he jerked football players wrist and he let go of the glass before tugging him round, “You want him, don’t be a dick. And all that angst about who you fuck? Ain’t ever anyone’s business but your own.”

Football player’s expression seemed to clear and he blushed. Dean patted him hard on the shoulder, “You attack my brother again, I’ll kill you.”

Next thing there were sirens. Dean rolled his eyes and bounded forward to grab Sam who was busy leaving Danny clear instructions on how to clean a wound as he took a few steps backwards, colliding with Dean who huffed and grabbed Sam by the wrist so they could slip away. Most of the kids had started shrieking and running around.

Taking off into the shadows they headed back to the Impala, listening out for people following. Which was why when an officer from the Sheriff’s office stepped out in front of them their instincts fired up. Dean went for a gun that wasn’t there and Sam threw a foot back, taking a defensive stance. They probably had a couple of knives between them but the other guy had a gun. They threw a look at each other and agreed to play it dumb.

“You alright there boys?” he drawled in a low, deep, gravelly voice.

“Sure officer.” Dean gripped Sam by the shoulder, “Just headin’ home.”

He stepped a little into the light. Slight, young, with a slow mysterious stillness that set Dean on edge. For a long, long moment he studied them before drawling, “I trust you haven’t been drinking?”

“No sir.” Sam rushed out, playing on every bit of his youth, curling into Dean like he was afraid and letting his body grow gangly and awkward, “Wouldn’t think of it.”

Startling blue eyes moved slowly from one to the other, full lips quirking as though he was amused about something, “Alright then.” he stepped aside.

“Rick! Get over here!”

The officer glanced over their heads, nodded, before flashing them both a smile, “You take care now.” and he sauntered passed, one hand resting comfortably at the gun on his hip. Exchanging a glance, they carried on walking. Managing not to run until they were off the road.

Jumping into the passenger seat, Dean pulled away and glanced sidelong at Sammy before grinning and laughing, “Ten on one?”

Sam flushed and looked embarrassed, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“At least all that training you bitch about is paying off. Wait until I tell dad you beat the shit out of a football team.”

Sam bit his lip, “What if he asks about Danny? What the hell am I supposed to say?”

Dean’s fingers tensed on the steering wheel, “He’s a friend. You say that.” Sam remained quiet and Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dread gathering in his gut, “That is all he is-right?”

Sam snapped his head round, “What? God-yeah-of course he is!”

Dean nodded, relief running through him, “Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Sam sounded incredulous.

Dean could feel himself blushing. Thank fuck for the darkness, “Good because we’re leaving soon! Not good good that you’re-you know-single or whatever.”

Sam snorted and slouched down in the passenger seat, “Sure Dean.”

Dean punched him in the arm, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

Sam laughed and shoved his arm away, his attention drawn back outside. All the way back to town Dean could feel something swelling in the silence between them. Sam, the little shit, looked totally at ease. In fact Dean was starting to think he hadn’t noticed that things were different until they were back at the house and settled in front of the TV with a beer.

“Did you mean what you said?” Sam asked suddenly.

Dean frowned, “About what?”

“To the football player. That it’s no one’s business who he fucks.”

Dean shifted a little, “Well it isn’t.”

Sam took that on board. He looked thoughtful, hazel eyes swirling with some unnameable intensity. Dean tried to look away and couldn’t. Now that he paid closer attention he could see the changes he’d been ignoring for so long. Sam’s gradual transition from boy to man. Despite his self confidence there was still some awkwardness about his long legs and arms as he found a way to make them rest naturally. For so long he’d been this slight, skinny little thing with too much hair and sharp eyes. Never missing a damn thing. Tucked under Dean’s arm or against his body when they slept. Where he was always supposed to be, so Dean could keep him safe.

“Okay.” and Sam turned back to the TV, sipping from his beer.

Dean blinked. Alright then. Taking his cue Dean tried to watch the crappy horror film they’d picked out until he realised he was getting pissed off by Sammy’s weird silence and even weirder behaviour. Since this started Dean had been on the back foot and each time he got closer to putting it to bed something escalated. Last night they’d been fucking by proxy and no matter how he tried to spin that, he knew it was deliberate. Something Sam wanted.

“Sammy why have you been fucking your teacher?” he couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.

Sam looked at him sidelong, “Why do you fuck anyone?”

For fun. To work out frustration. Because he wanted to touch someone beyond fighting and killing. Getting a girl off didn’t make that huge chasm of loneliness go away but it took the edge of for awhile.

“Plenty of reasons.”

Sam sipped from his bottle, eyes not leaving Dean’s and when he lowered it he said calmly, “I know that you followed me. I know that you watched.”

Dean always knew there was a risk of that. Though he did his best to not to act like it, Sam was a hunter and he would have picked up at once that someone was on his trail, “He’s your teacher. He should know better.”

Sam scratched his eyebrow and twisted round, tucking one foot under his thigh, “It was one time Dean.”

“Then what happened last night?” he hissed.

Sam’s eyes narrowed, “Yeah Dean-what did happen last night? You could have taken your pick and that’s who you take home? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to get caught.”

Dean’s flushed, in anger and humiliation, “You’re sixteen Sammy. You shouldn’t be fucking everything that moves!”

“Says who!” Sam cried, eyes flashing and Dean was already feeling better. This was more like it, “You started fucking around at fourteen and never stopped!”

“Yeah well that’s different!”

“Why!” Sam gestured with one sweep of his hand, “Why is it right for you and wrong for me!”

“Because you’re better than that!” he shouted.

Sam blinked, “What?”

Frustrated, Dean jumped up and ran his fingers through his hair. It was damp with sweat. Fucking Georgia.

“Hooking up with desperate strangers is something you do when-when there’s nothing else.” he tried not to sound so soul weary but he couldn’t help it, he was tired of pretending that the thought of Sam with someone else didn’t eat him up inside, “And you Sam-you’re smart, and good, and deserve something better than that.”

Sam gazed up at him for so long Dean was worried he was just going to walk out and leave this thing they wouldn’t name hanging between them. Instead he stood, slowly unfurling long limbs as he walked towards Dean. They were at eye level now. It was unnerving.

“One thing you need to get straight in your head Dean is that I am not better than you.” one large hand reached out to grasp his shoulder, “You raised me. You.” he squeezed once, reassuringly, “And I hate that you can’t see how amazing you are. A kid raising a kid-not just to go to school but to fight, to be a hero. Like you are.”

“Sammy-”

Dean tried to pull away and couldn’t, Sam wouldn’t let him, “No. Dean. Listen to me.” he moved closer, “Nothing gets to me more than when you act like you’re worthless-when nothing could be further from the truth. You’re Dean Winchester. You’re a fucking hunter, you kill monsters, you save people and you fucking care about them-and most of the time, I don’t. All I see is you putting yourself in danger over and over again for a bunch of civilians that don’t know how special you are.”

Dean could feel something hot and tight constricting in his chest, “That’s just the job Sammy.”

“No Dean it’s more than that.” he retorted, his expression growing fierce, “It’s who you are. You’re smart, and selfless and worth a hundred, a thousand, a million more than those skanks you take back to motels.” he sighed and seemed a little sad, “I just want you to see that.”

“Yeah, well, if I’m that good why are you pushing me away!” he demanded as Sam looked at him, another blazing flash of rage searing across his expression, “You’ve been sleeping around Sam. I know you have-and you never told me!”

“You’re angry that I didn’t tell you when I lost my virginity?” Sam said slowly, their faces were inches apart now and Dean couldn’t predict what Sammy was going to do next, “Do you realise how fucked up that sounds?”

"Of course I know! I don't even know what we're fighting about anymore!"

Sam glared. Then he grabbed Dean's t-shirt in his fists and hauled him close. Their lips crashed together and Dean didn't even try to get away. Sam's mouth was hot and demanding, fire was pouring down his spine and he groaned when their tongues knotted together.

They took a couple of steps back and landed on the couch. Sam pulled Dean on top of him and they lost themselves in one another for what felt like hours. Just the push and pull of desire. Sam's hands everywhere as he tugged Dean's t-shirt off, long fingers following the crease of his muscle, palms pressing, kneading and claiming. Dean just let it happen.

He was Sam's. Always had been. Displaying how deep that went like this was just about the best thing he'd ever felt.

"Jesus-Sammy." he gasped as one hand tore down his jeans exposing his hard cock to the damp air, "We have to stop."

"Can't." was Sam's short answer as he spat on his palm and bought their cocks together. Dean shuddered and groaned at the sensation. It was too much not enough. Unable to help himself he pushed into Sam's grip-they rocked together-legs, arms, mouths all tangled up like it had always been, like it should be.

"Love you Dean." Sam growled against his lips, more threat than promise, "Always gonna love you." and that was it. He was coming harder than ever before. Sam a beat behind.

When the pleasure cleared Dean noticed a few things at once. He was covered in gross amounts of come. His ass was out, and Sam had one hand resting on a cheek. Fingers curling towards his crack in a way that felt almost proprietary.

“This is fucked up.” he mumbled against Sam’s collarbone.

“Yeah.” Sam agreed, pressing his lips against Dean’s temple, “Kinda awesome as well.”

Dean hummed and reluctantly pulled away. Sammy looked deliciously fucked out, dark hair mussed, lips bitten red, flushed, tan and easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, “You been planning that for awhile?”

Sam grinned and stretched, revealing a slither of hard flat stomach, “Have I wanted you for a long time? Yes. Did I think anything would ever happen? No.” his expression grew serious, “I never dreamed for a moment that you’d see me as anything else than your dorky younger brother.”

Dean pulled up and sat on the opposite arm of the chair, hands clasped down between his knees, breathing, assessing. What had just happened was monumental. They could never go back to what they had before. The foundations of their relationship as brothers had shifted and Dean was too much of a hedonist to pretend that he wouldn’t want that again. Didn’t want it already.

Even so.

“That what all the sex has been about?” Dean asked, his voice gruff, “You showin’ me how big you’ve grown?”

Sam shrugged, “A little, I guess. Mostly I just wanted to have some fun-find out what it was about getting off with strangers you enjoyed so much.” he blushed a little and admitted, “And maybe I was being competitive. I figured you’d want someone with more experience, if you ever decided to look at me that way.” there was a wicked glitter in his eye as he added, “I wanted to make sure that you’d never look at anyone else ever again.”

Dean snorted out a laugh, rubbing his eyes in disbelief, “Sammy-you know what it is you’re suggesting? Asking?”

“Sure.” Sam sat up, “But I don’t think it’s something we need to angst about.”

“You’re my little brother.” Dean spoke slowly, “I want you to be happy and safe.”

“Yes, and I’m both of those things.”

“You just jacked us off.” Dean reminded, “And I wanted it Sammy...I’ve wanted you bad for awhile now and there is no excuse for that.”

“Who says we need one?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry?”

Sammy moved so he was sitting on the arm of the couch opposite Dean. It put them on the same level, “I mean we’re hunters Dean. We already live outside of the law. We can pretty much do what we want and no one ever has to know.”

“It’s wrong.” he reminded.

“Says who?” Sam threw back, looked mildly disdainful, “The civilians? They have their safe little lives, safe little world and we keep that for them. We fight so they don’t have to. The way I see it we’re owed this.”

Dean found Sam’s heat and passion irresistible, but he had to keep back, had to get this straight first, “The way you twist words Sammy....”

“Look. Dean.” Sam’s head was bowed forward, but he was looking up, imploring and so fucking persuasive, “This isn’t a case of right or wrong. You can beat yourself up as much as you want but it won’t change the fact that you want me. Pretending you don’t will only make it worse.”

“So what do you suggest?” Dean demanded, “Since you’ve got this all worked out?”

“I suggest we let it run. You’re my brother, I love you more than anything, but I also want to fuck you raw.” there was that hint of darkness again, something deep and unmovable that Dean hungered to get his hands on and understand better, “And I don’t care about the rest of the world. The rest of the world hasn’t been trained to kill since birth. You’re all I want Dean-all I will ever want.”

Dean blinked and took a long, slow breath, “Okay Sammy.”

Sam frowned, “Okay what?”

“You’re sure about this and I believe you.” Dean moved off the couch and stretched his muscles, they’d bunched up dramatically during his kick ass orgasm and he was still a bit shaky because of it, “Don’t mean I’m not gonna freak out, and it don’t mean that we’re suddenly engaged or nothin’. You’re sixteen and not even done growin’ yet. We can talk about forever later. Deal?”

Sam gazed at him steadily, as though trying to find a trap in his words. When Dean raised his eyebrows a slow, brilliant smile spread across Sammy’s face. It made something inside Dean shiver with fear and anticipation.

“Deal.” Sam agreed, bounding off the couch and sweeping Dean up into a fierce kiss he knew without a doubt he’d never recover from.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam snapped his eyes open and grabbed the hand at his chest, twisted, held the assailant down with his body and reached for a gun under the pillows that wasn’t there.

“Woah woah woah!” Dean cried, eyes wide as he tried to keep still, “Sammy. Sam. It’s me.”

Blinking, Sam shook his head and looked around. Bedroom. Georgia. Dean. Right.

“Sorry I…” he wasn’t sure what to say, he’d been dreaming of a void and the bone deep fear of the unnatural thing hiding in plain sight had triggered his instincts, “Shit Dean! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Not hurt Sammy.” Dean said softly, his hands curling around Sam’s wrists, thumbs rubbing soothingly against the pulse point, “Just breathe. You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah.” he agreed, voice raw as looked outside to get his bearings.

Pale blue sky, sun would be rising pretty soon. He twitched his fingers. Dean’s skin was hot beneath him. Last night they’d foregone any illusion of modesty and gone to sleep naked. Partly to combat the suffocating heat. Partly as an acknowledgement that it would save time later and now his senses were slotting back in the right order it was the only thing Sam could think about.

Dean’s skin was flushed, lips a little parted, eyes heavy lidded. At some point his pulse had picked up and Sam could feel the soft little huffs of breath against the arms Dean was holding down. When he shifted a little he could feel the throb of Dean’s cock against the crack of his ass and all the desire he’d been holding back broke out.

Capturing Dean’s lips in a forceful kiss, he stretched out to the bedside table and grabbed the lube. He wasn’t going another second without feeling Dean inside him.

“Open me up.” he ordered, twisting round so his ass was in Dean’s face. All he cared about was finally get his lips around Dean’s cock. It was thicker than his, veined, and flushed the prettiest pink he’d ever seen. The moment he started worshipping it Dean groaned and the rush of breath against his crack made him shudder.

Dean caressed the back of his thigh, “You like that Sammy?”

“Like the promise of it.” he replied, before diving back down onto Dean’s cock. Strong fingers pried open his ass cheeks and Dean’s tongue breached him at once. At first Sam didn’t really like it, he tried to pull away, but Dean held him firm. Grumbling internally about asshole big brothers Sam wet his fingers, swept precome up from the tip of Dean’s cock, and used it to smooth his way into Dean’s ass.

“Jesus Sammy!” he cried, pulling off his ass.

“Shut up. Keep going. I might start to like it soon.”

“You’re such a goddamn caveman.” Dean grumbled, before taking up the task, with a little more force than before. When a slick finger joined his tongue, Sam suddenly got it. Pulling off Dean’s cock to stretch out and enjoy the fast burning pleasure growing at the base of his spine. No one had ever done this to him before. Sam had never trusted anyone enough to give them such power over his body.

“Sammy.” Dean’s voice was tight.

Eager to return the favour, Sam continued with his ministrations. It made Dean giveaway the sweetest little moans as he gorged himself on his ass. It got a little frenzied for awhile. Sibling rivalry making them competitive about who was going to call time first. In the end Sam got sick of waiting and decided he needed more. Batting Dean’s hand aside, he twisted round, rested his hands on Dean’s chest and sank down on his cock.

The sensation alone was shattering. Dean fit him just right. Slotting so neatly Sam scarcely felt the need to move.

“Fuck.” he was breathless, knotting his fingers with Dean’s as they pressed against his hips, “Jesus Dean.”

Dean’s chest was heaving, eyes almost rolling back in his head but he still managed to shoot out a quip, “Wrong guy there Sammy.”

“Lucifer, Azazel, and all the damned in hell.” he breathed, praying to whatever entity had given this gift to them, “I don’t care. Don’t care about anything else.”

Shifting his hips once, twice, Sam cried out in bliss. There could never be anything better than this. Not possible. Not a chance.

Dean started shifting beneath him and together they fell into a rhythm. Way harder and faster than anything he’d tried before. Dean was a killer at heart and he fucked like the world was ending. Could have been for all Sam cared. Or noticed. It was just the pulse of heat and sensation, their bodies slick, sticking together as the first blaze of sunlight broke over the horizon.

“-most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Dean was murmuring against his skin, teeth and tongue playing with his nipples, “Sammy. Baby boy. Love you so goddamn much.”

Snapping his hips with more power than before Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders, “Touch me, touch me.”

The minute Dean started pulling that was it. Fire exploded beneath Sam’s skin and he came so fucking hard he could barely see. Dean didn’t seem much better off. Pulses of come shooting up his ass. Hot. The amount obscene.

“Dean.” he collapsed under the weight of his own body, “Fuck Dean. What the hell was that?”

“No idea.” Dean’s hand was running up and down his back, fingertips following the long line of his muscle, “Jesus why are you so hot?”

Sam snorted a laugh against the side of Dean’s neck and pulled off. Semen was coating the inside of his thighs, “This is seriously gross.”

“Only got yourself to blame.” Dean muttered, yawning.

“Yeah yeah.” he muttered, unable to prevent his eyes from slipping shut, “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

\--

Things were good in Georgia, Dean decided. Sure it was way too hot, working at the mechanics was boring and he hadn’t killed anything in awhile, but for the first time in years he felt okay. Better than okay. Dad was happy with his mystery person-Dean was beginning to suspect from the intensity of the bruising that kept appearing on his arms and the newfound swagger that it might be a guy-and Sammy.

Weren’t no words to describe what Sammy was. Not no more.

They woke up tangled together. Fell asleep aching and spent. Using the rest of their spare moments in between getting used to one another’s bodies all over again. Something dark, blazing and unique had erupted between them and Dean didn’t know if he’d ever be able to stop now that he’d started.

Everything about Sam drove him wild. The loose curls at the nape of his neck. That mole on his nose. The exotic slant of his sharp, complex eyes. The more they fucked, the more relaxed Sam became in his skin and his awkwardness shifted into a languid kind of grace that only emphasised his otherworldliness.

Long, sensuous and greedy. For anything Dean would give him and each time he thought he’d reached the limit he found more. Sam kept carving up these hidden depths he didn’t know he had. Devouring them and claiming it wasn’t enough.

Dean would care, if he didn’t feel the same way about Sam.

“There’s another party.” Sam informed, tongue idly tracing Dean’s belly button.

“So.” his fingers were resting against Sam’s head, curling in his dark hair.

“Thought you might wanna go.” he shrugged.

“And watch people gawp at the great hero Sam Winchester?” he muttered, “I don’t think so.”

Sam threw him an amused look, “You’re just jealous because no one was admiring you for once.”

That was only a little bit true, “I just hate people eyeing you up like they’ve got the right.”

Sam smirked and he crawled up Dean’s body. They were on the sitting room floor. The battered old rug was still soft, but Dean was pretty sure there were carpet burns on his lower back anyway. He’d barely finished his burger before he was jumped. The only thing Sam loved more than fucking Dean senseless was riding him so hard he was certain they were due an injury. Goddamn teenage hormones.

“Ah Dean. You jealous?”

“Of anyone that looks at you.” Dean admitted with complete and total honesty, “Because it’s new for them.” he tucked one hand against Sam’s cheek, admired the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes, “I’ve been in love with you my whole life, but we don’t get the new.”

“No.” Sam agreed, twisting his head to the side so his teeth could catch the meat of his hand, “But they don’t get to fall like this, and I feel sorry for them that they can’t.”

Those words spread across Dean’s skin. He grabbed Sam’s neck and pulled him down, closer, needing to taste him all over again.They rolled over and for once Sam just went with it. Gave Dean some control back. Still slick and open from before, he pushed Sammy’s thighs open and thrust back in. Sam arched up beneath him. Frantic and fierce, fingernails scoring deep lines across his chest as he gave Dean all that he was. Gave it to them both.

Rearing back, he shoved his way back in. Put the full force of his strength behind it. Ordinarily he’d hold back. Wouldn’t risk hurting someone, but those someone’s weren’t Sam. Christ he went in hard and all that happened was Sam shouted out for more. Dug his nails in deep, eyes blazing and open as he dared Dean to do it. To try and break him. Break them.

Sam locked his legs tight on his ass and shoved up to meet him. It had never been like this with anyone else. Dean always use to think it was bullshit. The way certain bodies were supposed to fit together. One of those myths to make people sleep better at night when they were hoping for something better. Except he and Sam, they locked, and they stuck and he soared higher than he ever had before. Higher than he ever would.

“Oh God oh God!” he came quick and hard, bringing Sam down with him. Sam who had come entirely untouched and seemed utterly stunned by it.

“Wow.” he blinked up at the ceiling as Dean drew out and collapsed onto the floor, repeating, “Wow.”

“Uh-huh.” he agreed, orgasm dumb, “I’ll think about the party.”

They got another couple of months of scorching Georgia summer before dad came home one morning. Sweaty, dirty, with murder in his eyes. Thirty minutes to pack and they were gone, back on the road, cramped into the Impala as though nothing had ever changed. Sam’s temper though contained was electric and Dean sat in the passenger seat and tried not to feel the enormity of what they had done, would carry on doing.

Sam was everything. Dean would walk the fiery path down to Hell over and over if that’s what it took. To kiss those lips. Taste that perfect hot skin. They were tangled up together now, body and soul, for better or worse, and Dean would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to the ride.

Once glance in the mirror confirmed everything. They had a deal. And they were fucking Winchester’s. It would take the Apocalypse itself to drag them apart.

Sam shot him a fiery look, smirked, _Bring it on._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting to the end!
> 
> I have a finale to this series lined up-but it's going to take a little time to write.
> 
> Otherwise I hope you enjoyed reading my Wincest love as much as I enjoyed writing it ;-) 
> 
> Until next time.


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